


Some things hotel rooms are good for

by iamleavingthisfandom



Series: Don't try this at home (unless you want to) [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fix-It, Fuck the Canon, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nobody is Dead, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Smut, also all other losers are very briefly mentioned in like one paragraph and they're all fine and well, what else do y'all want me to say it's just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 20:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamleavingthisfandom/pseuds/iamleavingthisfandom
Summary: When he let up, he realized that his hands had made their way to Richie’s hair, messing it up even more than it usually was. Richie was wearing a dazed look on his face.“What was that for?” he asked, in a can’t-believe-this-is-happening tone.“Well, you’re finally wearing non-garbage clothes, and your suit makes me want to pull it off you. Do you mind being late?”“Not at all."





	Some things hotel rooms are good for

**Author's Note:**

> No one is dead. Stan's alive and well, and Eddie's alive and gay, and they're all sorting out their lives. And they all get to be happy. That part I'm not taking contructive criticism on. 
> 
> This was based on that one tumblr otp prompt that went something like "Person A has invited Person B out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. Person B isn’t really a “fancy” person, so imagine Person A’s surprise when they see Person B in an elegant gown/suit. Bonus if they don’t make it to their dinner reservation in time."
> 
> These two??? got me fucked up. Am writing a lot, but it's all kinda nonsense, but who's going to stop me? no one, that's who. What are you going to do to me? I'm in a different city, get off my dick. 
> 
> but also, like, I appreciate feedback if you like it, okay. I really do. Gives me the motivation to write these instead of studying for midterms, so like.
> 
> warning for gross overuse of italics?

It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. 

Except it kind of was. 

The Losers were going out, to a _nice_ expensive restaurant, for the first time after they remembered one another, and caught up, and all got caught in messy, messy feelings, and defeated It. And that was good, that was all fine and dandy. They deserved some celebration. Don’t get Eddie wrong, he was excited to actually get to know what happened to everyone in the last 27 years without having to worry about a murderous demonic clown. 

But him and Richie were now kind-of-maybe-potentially-a-couple, another situation of very messy feelings they definitely needed to talk about. And they just couldn’t find the time, not even after they bullied the demonic clown to death. First, there was going to the hospital, then there was getting their lives sorted out, what with them taking quite a long time off their jobs and marriages and everything. For him, he had to go back home to talk about getting a divorce with Myra _(check)_, and maybe quit his job _(no check)_ and _maybe_ start something new _(no check at all)_. Maybe move? He didn’t know. It was messy.

Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t do messy. He loved Richie’s emotional mess, sure, but that was because it was an inherent part of Richie, and everything attached to Richie somehow became a good thing in his eyes. He didn’t quite know how, but that was fine. 

Plus, Richie seemed surprisingly sure, in a very non-messy way, when it came to his feelings for Eddie, and he made them perfectly clear. That helped.

Still, he didn’t like messy, and he was looking forward to finally talking about what the hospital “I love you”s were about, what they meant for them, and how exactly they were planning to get together when he had fucked Richie’s mom. That last part he only added when heading to Richie’s hotel to calm his nerves. He knew they wouldn’t be able to talk until late into the night when Loser’s club would part into their respective couples and houses or hotels. Bev would leave with Ben, Bill and Mike would split a ride to the airport — Bill was going back to Audra in England, while Mike was fulfilling his dream of going to Florida. Eddie didn’t quite get why they both needed to leave the night after the celebration, but he wasn’t about to mind what wasn’t his business. They all agreed to regular Skype calls and meet-ups anyway. Stan was going to go back to his hotel to Patty, and that would leave just Eddie and Richie. And _then,_ finally, they were going to be able to talk and decide what the next step should be.

However, that wouldn’t happen until everyone was drunk and tired of celebrating and catching up. And there was a lot to catch up about, too. Defeating It sure had an impact on all their lives, but there was no erasing the last three decades either, he thought, straightening his tie while he was in the elevator getting to Richie’s floor. The last few days couldn’t really make up for how much of each other’s lives they had lost.

To be quite honest, he was looking forward to whatever would follow the talk with Richie even more than to sorting their feelings out. He yearned. Oh, he yearned. Pining for 27 years without even realizing it will do that to you. 

He felt a bit nervous pressing the doorbell to Richie’s room, and chastised himself for it. Richie’s confession was as sincere as his own, and he wasn’t about to take it back anytime soon, even if they hadn’t actually done anything other than confessing. 

They should have. Well, they didn’t really have the opportunity to, but they definitely should have already done something past confessions. 

Richie opened the door, interrupting Eddie’s train of thought with his bright grin. That was the first thing Eddie noticed. The second was the _nice_ suit Richie was wearing. 

“Hey, Eds,” he said before Eddie had any time to process what he was seeing. He was so used to seeing Richie in casual clothes that he didn’t at all expect him to look as good as he did all dressed up. 

He was staring. 

He couldn’t quite bring himself to care that he was staring, though. He probably had a weird look, most likely creeping Richie out. Again, he couldn’t care less, because Richie in a suit was absolutely gorgeous and had him thinking of missing the celebration entirely. He didn’t even respond to the annoying nickname. 

“Like what you see, Eddie spaghetti?” Richie joked, obviously awkward at the attention. Eddie let his gaze drift back to his face, noticing a slight blush to go with his goofy grin. 

“Definitely,” he didn’t waste any more time and pulled Richie down by his tie, silencing his comeback with a hungry kiss. There was a moment of hesitation, and then their lips were moving against one another, a bit awkward and out of sync at first, with not nearly enough tongue. After a few seconds, though, they caught their rhythm, and oh boy. Eddie let himself get a bit lost in it, licking at Richie’s upper lip. When he let up, he realized that his hands had made their way to Richie’s hair, messing it up even more than it usually was. Richie was wearing a dazed look on his face. 

“What was that for?” he asked, in a can’t-believe-this-is-happening tone. 

“Well, you’re finally wearing non-garbage clothes, and you look nice. Also your suit makes me want to pull it off you. Do you mind being late?” 

“Not at all,” Eddie couldn’t believe his luck. 

“I’ll cancel the Lyft,” he commented, walking into the room authoritatively and shutting the door behind him. As he was putting his phone back in his pocket, he felt a hand slip it out of his grip. He watched Richie carefully put the phone on the shelf, and then he was pressed against the door and kissed like he hadn’t been kissed in ages. He was probably getting that same dazed look, too, and couldn’t care less. He knew they couldn’t take their time with each other yet, but that was fine. He just couldn’t keep his hands off Richie the entire night when he looked this good. They could talk later.

Their lips were moving against one another, and he didn’t really know what to do with his hands. He wanted them all over Richie and couldn’t quite decide where they should go first, so he ended up haphazardly running them over the entirety of Richie’s back. He felt an exhale of air into the kiss and heard a quiet chuckle, and then his hands were pinned to the door next to his head. Huh. That was new. He hadn’t gotten hard as fast in years. Richie broke the kiss and Eddie tried to follow his lips, but then realized that he could feel a thigh against his dick. What followed was the realization that Richie could probably feel his hard-on.

“So I take it that means the hands thing is alright,” the entirety of Richie’s face seemed to be made of a huge grin, and somehow Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to blame him. 

“More than alright,” he reassured him. “Now go back to kissing me.” 

Richie obliged, leaving a few gentle kisses on his lips, which grew more heated and more French. He eventually broke the kiss, going to pepper small kisses over Eddie’s throat, letting him lean back into the door. The soft light kisses turned into small bites by Eddie’s clavicle, making him melt on the spot. He didn’t catch onto the fact that Richie was leaving hickeys on his skin until he was halfway into the third one. 

“Are we in high school?” he reproached, his tone lacking malice. He didn’t even open his eyes.

“Well, we’re making up for our high school years,” Richie commented thoughtfully, interrupting himself to tongue a spot over Eddie’s pulse point. “So I think it’s only fitting to go back to what I would do back then,” he bit down lightly on skin, releasing it in a moment, “to your mom.”

“Did you seriously have to bring up my mother now?” Eddie raised his head from the door, shooting Richie an annoyed look. “I think you’ve killed my ability to have a boner, ever.” 

Richie just looked at him slyly, bringing his hands over Eddie’s head to hold them in just one of his. His other hand travelled down, teasingly brushing over Eddie’s shirt, and hovered just over his crotch. Richie leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“I think I can get it back. What would you like more, you on your back or me on my knees? I’d love to blow you right against this door, but if you’d like, I could lay you down on the bed, get you nice and ready for me. If you like being held like this, wait till I tie you to the bed. Nice silk ties, properly, to the headboard. I’ll take my time with you, like you deserve, while you have to lie back and let me adore every inch of you. Or maybe I’ll tease you, wind you up and leave you hanging, just like that.” 

While he was talking, his hand came to softly grip Eddie’s hard-on, not killed in the slightest. A soft bite to his earlobe was the final drop that shook his resolve.

“Yeah, okay, yeah. We can do the bed bit after the— the meet-up,” it was getting more difficult to think coherently with Richie all over him. He was rapidly losing his wits, and Richie suddenly letting go of his hands and sinking to his knees was decidedly not helping. He grinned up at Eddie, and the latter’s breath hitched. He just stared as Richie’s hands rested on his belt buckle, as if unsure.

“Is this okay, then?” 

Eddie only had the time to exhale a “yeah” and Richie was unbuckling the belt like he had done it a million times before. He had no time to dwell on the thought, though, because within a moment Richie was pulling down his boxers. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a hand on his thigh and gentle touches of lips on the spot where his leg met his crotch. 

“Like what you see?” he tried to parody Richie’s earlier quip. It just sounded shaky when he said it, though.

“You’re gorgeous,” he heard Richie whisper into his skin, making him shiver slightly. “You always are. So gorgeous.” He continued his light touches to Eddie’s cock, soft and almost reverent, as if afraid reality would fold in around them any second now.

“You know, I’m not going to disappear,” Eddie tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as breathy. 

“I’m just trying to come to terms with how lucky I am,” it was almost weird hearing Richie be serious for once, but Eddie wasn’t complaining. Not with the movements of Richie’s hand gripping tighter and rocking over his cock. He hummed a quiet noise, his eyes half-lidded, but then he felt lips touch his tip. Eddie looked down again and his eyes were met with Richie’s, who was looking up just as he was sliding down Eddie’s dick. There was no sight hotter than Richie fucking Tozier sucking his cock, if you asked Eddie Kaspbrak. Nothing could compare to that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, one of his hands going to softly lie in Richie’s hair. “No, I am definitely the lucky one here, _fuck_.” The back of his head hit the door, and he closed his eyes, the picture burnt into his memory like something he’d see just before death, to make sure his life was worth it. As a risk analyst, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t die from fucking (no preexisting conditions that might affect that, the age not quite hitting the statistics, the factors just didn’t add up), but he felt like he might just. Especially when Richie’s tongue did some flicking thing – frankly, he didn’t catch what the process was, just that it felt way too good to be true. He felt his hips twitch and tried to control the movements, but then Richie had the nerve to stop and pin him to the door, restricting his movement to almost nothing, and boy, did that _do_ things to Eddie. He made the mistake of looking down again, and saw Richie practically smirking around his cock. Which should have been kind of impossible, but the soft sucking sensation he got after that suggested that it was very much deliberate. 

“You fucker, stop teasing,” Eddie grunted out, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the door behind him again. “At least save it until we’re not late for anything.” 

Richie seemed to get the message, as he started bobbing his head up and down, bringing his hand to massage the base, too. Eddie was gone embarrassingly quickly after that, losing his grip on reality entirely.

“Rich, I’m… I’m gonna…” he tried to tug on his hair, but Richie didn’t pull away. Eddie looked down, confused, and Richie just sent him a fucking wink, like that was any way to let him know he swallows. With a grunt, Eddie arched his back and came down Richie’s throat, gripping onto his hair to ground himself. 

Richie waited through the aftershocks and released him, tucking him into his underwear clumsily. He stood up from his knees, wobbling a bit. 

“I’m too old to give blowjobs against the door,” he joked, while Eddie was just trying to collect his brain cells together, half of which decided to melt and the other — to commit the sight of Richie with his dick in his mouth to his memory forever. “You good, Eds?” Richie asked, jokingly. 

“What the fuck do you think,” he huffed in response. “Now come here and kiss me.”

“My breath smells like come.”

“Yeah, and I said kiss me. Now.” 

“Bossy,” Richie laughed and brought Eddie into a soft kiss. They broke it not even ten seconds later. 

“You need to brush your teeth before we go to the restaurant. Also your suit looks a mess now.”

“Gee, Eds, anything escape your notice?” Eddie looked down to be met with an unmistakable tent in Richie’s slacks. 

“Not exactly, but I was thinking that I could take care of that while you brush your teeth, to save time,” he smirked.

“I think I can get onboard with that,” Richie led the way to the bathroom. 

As they were standing in front of the mirror and Richie was taking off his jacket and shirt — because he wasn’t about to mess them up, these were nice clothes — Eddie handed him a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it, and went to undo his slacks. Not wasting any time with preamble, he made a few firm strokes, making Richie slow down trying to get his hand to cooperate. While his mouth was busy, though, Eddie could fill the silence. He leaned towards his ear and whispered:

“Now about that bed and teasing business you mentioned earlier,” Richie made a questioning sound. “Do you have any lube on hand or should we pick some up?” He was pointed in the direction of a cabinet. “Good, good, I’d hate to miss out on being full of your gorgeous cock.”

Richie sputtered, spitting into the sink. 

“Fuck, Eds, you can’t just say these things.”

“Keep brushing, we don’t have that much time.” Richie did. 

“Now, to the teasing business, I’m totally for that. I want you to absolutely wreck me, you know, I have for a while. I want to be going crazy and forget where’s up and down, that’s how wrecked I want to be, all the while I’m at your mercy.” 

Richie spat the toothpaste out and quickly rinsed, bringing Eddie into a sloppy kiss afterwards. Eddie could tell he was close, and now was certainly not the time for teasing, so he increased the speed of his strokes, releasing Richie’s lips in favor of mouthing on his neck. Finally, he heard a low sound as Richie came. Eddie caught most of it in his hand, letting some dribble into the sink. He turned on the water, careful not to let any of the liquid get on the faucet, and rinsed his hand. Richie chuckled.

“Trademark Kaspbrak.” 

“Would you rather I walk around with your come on my hand?” 

“No, not on your hand.” Confused for a hot second, Eddie opened his mouth to ask when he got the implication. 

“Oh.”

“No need to make a big deal of it, it was a joke.”

“Well, joke or not, we can… we can talk about that.”

“Edward,” Richie said in mock scandalized tone. “What kind of a kinky monster have you been hiding under that risk analyst attitude?”

“Maybe if you’re good at dinner, you’ll find out,” he raised his eyebrows at Richie in the mirror, and got a deep kiss for his troubles. 

“Can’t fucking wait to.”


End file.
